He updated the device. He deployed it at a robbery scene late last year. The forensic application backfired.
Dudley coveted the device. Dudley broke into his apartment and covertly studied it. He found the picture stash. Dudley ran the Watanabe job. Dudley blackmailed him and co-opted him to the Werewolf frame.
Ashida rubbed his eyes and cracked a window. Cold air rushed in. He felt wind-deflected rain.
Thad Brown put two detectives on the boxed-dead-man job. It was perfunctory. Here’s a postscript: Elmer Jackson’s brother died in that fire.
A radio blared down the hallway. Sid Hudgens blared his a.m. Herald piece.
Chinatown torture snuff. Jap-hater Eddie Leng. Fifth Column Japs on Chinatown rampage?
Ashida shut the door and muzzled the Sidster. Miss Conville was due. She seemed competent. Dr. Nort and Captain Parker were dazzled. Parker quashed Manslaughter Two and got Miss Conville a job. She knew she killed four Mexicans. Parker quashed her knowledge of the dead kids in the trunk. Lustful men and corrupt women. It was ghastly business.
The phone rang. The noise startled him. Ashida snatched the call.
“Crime lab. Dr. Ashida speaking.”
Dudley said, “Good morning, lad. It has been entirely too long.”
13
(Los Angeles, 8:45 A.M., 1/2/42)
Today’s B-Squad roust sheet. It’s all J-town and nearby. There’s three likely Tojoites.
The squad pen was drafty. The day-watch guys honked their snouts and skimmed their roust summaries. Elmer unwrapped a cigar and crib-noted his sheet.
Yanigahara, Willy J. Age 47/tavern employee. Rat-off by: Agent Ed Satterlee. Noted Chink-hater. Spotted at bund rallies. Has white girlfriend.
Yamazaki, Robert/AKA “Bad Bobby.” Age 34/railroad employee. On Federal rat list. Deutsches Haus habitué. Has Negro girlfriend. Frequents jazz clubs and tokes maryjane.
Matsura, Donald L. Age 41/metallurgist/gold broker/imports samurai swords. Rat-off by: Agent Ed Satterlee. Has Jap Navy KAs. Wears zoot suits. Has Mexican girlfriend.
Per above suspects:
No wants/no warrants/no parole holds. Inventory domiciles and transport to Lincoln Heights Jail. Today’s B-Squad pair off: Kapek, Jackson, Rice.
Elmer lit his cigar. He got unlucky today. Kapek and Rice gored his gourd. Lee Blanchard got A-Squad/Lunceford and Moss. He notched the relative luck.
The boss took the lectern. Noted nosebleed Lew Collier. The squad humps straddled chairs and snapped to.
Collier said, “Go easy on your confiscations. The lab’s overloaded. Inventory the flops and tape-seal them. This squadroom is not a pawnshop. Don’t bring stuff in, thinking you can hock it later on.”
Lunceford said, “No tickee, no washee.”
Kapek said, “That’s what you call a mixed metaphor. The Chinks say that, not the Japs.”
Blanchard pulled his cheeks taut. He did the squint-eyed Chinaman — always good for laughs.
Ha-has rose and subsided. Elmer said, “What about plain old stealing, boss? You might direct your answer to Kapek and Rice.”
Kapek sput-sputtered. Spit bubbles popped.
Rice said, “Jackson’s a Bolshevik.”
Lunceford said, “He’s a Jap-lover, you mean.”
Blanchard said, “How come we’re not rousting the dagos and the Krauts?”
Moss said, “They’re in this here war, the last time I heard.”
Collier rolled his eyes and held up the Herald. “You all know this, right? Eddie Leng bought it New Year’s Eve. Safe to say you also know the Japs hate the Chinks. The Chief wants you guys to keep your ears down in J-town.”
Blanchard said, “Who’s working it for the Bureau?”
Collier said, “Nobody. The Chief’s kicked it over to Ace Kwan. Let the Chinks police the Chinks, he always says.”
Elmer said, “Eddie Leng was Four Families, and Ace runs Hop Sing. You see a certain hypocrisy there?”
Rice said, “Jackson’s a Bolshevik.”
They walked to J-town. Unjailed Japs voodoo-eyed them. Oooga-booga. It’s B-Squad, on the hoof.
They wore civvies and carried pump shotguns. Rock-salt rounds replaced buckshot. Rock salt knocked you down and pocked your ass bloody. It stopped short of instant death.
Kapek and Rice dwarfed Elmer. They hoofed three abreast and dwarfed all known Japs. Yanigahara lived on East 2nd. Yamazaki lived on East 1st. Kapek hit a call-box phone and summoned a whore wagon. The wagon met them outside the Yamazaki crib.
Bad Bobby went peaceful. Elmer wrote the inventory and gave him a cigar. There was no evil swag extant. Bad Bobby owned boocoo jazz records and zoot suits. Plus pulp westerns and a Packard-Bell radio. Nix on hate tracts and guns.
They tape-sealed the door and dumped Bobby in the wagon. They hit East 2nd Street. Willy J. Yanigahara went peaceful.
Elmer wrote the inventory and gave him a cigar. There was no evil swag extant. Racy swag, though.
Kapek found a stack of girlie mags. Rice bootjacked them. Elmer found a locket stuffed with blond pubic hair. A note was jammed in. It read “To Willy, love always, Lorene.”
Elmer bootjacked it. They tape-sealed the door and dumped Willy in the wagon. The wagon trailed them south on San Pedro.
Donald Matsura lived at 219 3rd. His pad was upstairs rear. There was no elevator. B-Squad hoofed it up and back.
Rice banged the door. Music snapped off inside. A skinny Jap opened up.
He was TB-ward thin. He had gassed hair topped by a jigaboo hairnet. He had pinned-out, darty eyes.
Oooga-booga. He put out dat fear stink.
Elmer said, “Son, don’t you rabbit.”
Matsura squealed words, Jap-talk falsetto.
Rice and Kapek grabbed him. They smashed him against the door and cuffed his hands behind his back.
Matsura squealed squeal words. They verged on crazy-man squeaks. Rice grabbed his hair and smashed his face into the doorjamb. Matsura screeched falsetto. Elmer ran through the crib and eyeball-tossed it.
He saw ratty furniture and a fly-swarmed kitchen.
He saw a console radio and smelled burned-out tubes.
He dumped a hamper full of sock-padded jockstraps.
He dumped a nightstand full of gold swastika paperweights and Goldlover magazines.
He saw a terpin hydrate still. It was hooked up to a four-burner hot plate. It featured feeder vats and four yeast spouts.
He saw a take-out menu for Eddie Leng’s Kowloon.
He opened a closet. He saw samurai swords up the wazoo.
He ran back to the front room. Rice and Kapek had Matsura pinned to that wall.
They wheeled and saw Elmer. They stopped rabbit-punching Matsura. They dropped their mitts and went Well?
Matsura squirmed loose and ran out the doorway. Kapek gave him a ten-yard lead and raised his shotgun.
He let three rounds fly. Rock salt shredded the shirt off Matsura’s back and scalped off most of his hair.
14
(Ensenada, 8:00 A.M., 1/3/42)
Dudley said, “I’ve issued a blanket arrest order. All Japs registered in the ’40 census. Noncoms and State Police have been dispatched.”
Coffee klatch. Strict dress code. Olive drabs for SIS. Statie fasco black.
They perched in Ralph Melnick’s office. The boss served coffee and sweet rolls. His ODs were crumb-flecked.
“Captain Smith lets no moss grow under his feet. Isn’t that right, José?”
Vasquez-Cruz winked. Dudley winked back. They sat in Chinese lacquered chairs. Melnick worked the Asia desk back in the Ming dynasty.